


Tear Down My Reason

by there_must_be_a_lock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sex, Bickering, Case Fic, Choking, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Heist, Lust Potion/Spell, Or At Least They Attempt It, Outdoor Sex, Rough Sex, Scratching, Shameless Use of the "Oh No We Have To Make Out So We Don't Get Caught" Trope, Smut, Soulless Sam Winchester, They Don't Like Each Other But They Totally Like Each Other, Vaginal Sex, ya know?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/there_must_be_a_lock/pseuds/there_must_be_a_lock
Summary: As we passed the hedge maze — of course there was a fucking hedge maze — Sam moved closer and put a hand on my back, fingers splayed across the span of bare skin where my fancy dress draped and plunged.“Have I mentioned how good you look tonight?” he commented, his voice husky. I shivered and shook him off.That was the flip side of everything being out in the open. Now that he wasn’t trying to be the normal gentlemanly Sam, he wasn’t bothering to hide the way he was checking me out. I hated the new Sam, or at least my rational side did. My body? Not so much. My traitorous body was very fond of this new Sam. Aggressive and confident was a good look on him.So was that fucking tux.“I need a drink,” I muttered. He laughed again.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 54





	Tear Down My Reason

**Author's Note:**

> For a tumblr challenge. My prompts were "charity gala" and the song "Closer," by Nine Inch Nails. You know the one: "I want to fuck you like an animal." This is that. In formalwear.

“Can you _pretend_ to like me for an hour, at least?” Sam asked casually. “This won’t take long.” 

The maintenance trail emerged from the woods, concealed in a patch of shrubbery. I paused to toe my flats off and stash them under a bush. 

“Can _you_ act like a real boy for an hour? Instead of fuckin’... SamBot 2000?” 

He chuckled at that, the low, cocky, distinctively soulless laugh that set my teeth on edge. I smacked him in the chest with my clutch to make him hold it as I got my heels on. 

I’d almost been relieved to find out that Sam was missing his soul. Now that I didn’t have to worry about hurting his feelings, I wasn’t bothering to hide my distaste for the new Sam-droid. He’d been getting under my skin in a _bad_ way. Dean was with Lisa for the weekend, though, and we had a black-tie charity gala to sneak into, so I had reluctantly agreed to be the Saminator’s date for the night. 

We made our way toward the back patio of the historical mansion. The paths were more well-lit here, illuminated so that guests could roam the extravagant gardens. As we passed the hedge maze — of course there was a fucking hedge maze — Sam moved closer and put a hand on my back, fingers splayed across the span of bare skin where my fancy dress draped and plunged.

“Have I mentioned how good you look tonight?” he commented, his voice husky. I shivered and shook him off. 

That was the flip side of everything being out in the open. Now that he wasn’t trying to be the normal gentlemanly Sam, he wasn’t bothering to hide the way he was checking me out. I _hated_ the new Sam, or at least my rational side did. My body? Not so much. My traitorous body was _very_ fond of this new Sam. Aggressive and confident was a good look on him. 

So was that fucking tux. 

“I need a drink,” I muttered. He laughed again. 

“Sure you don’t want to dance?” Sam asked, as we looked around the ballroom at the glittering crowd. 

“Let’s just get this over with,” I sighed. 

“Hey, we made it through the door. The rest is a piece of cake.” 

Through the ballroom, out into the entryway, down a wood-paneled corridor, duck several security guards and a couple velvet ropes… it actually _was_ a piece of cake, to my surprise. We got to the library without incident and made our way over to a wall of shelves opposite the door. 

“There,” I said, pointing to a tiny ivory statue of some half-animal pagan god. I’d just opened my clutch and taken out a handkerchief to protect my hand when we heard footsteps approaching. 

“Always wanted to try this move,” Sam said, grinning as he pulled me close. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I snapped. 

Then Sam was kissing me, fingers curling around my jaw as he sucked on my lower lip, and the scrape of his teeth made my head spin. I took a dizzy step backward, colliding with the shelf, and threw an arm out to steady myself as I kissed him back. For a second I was lost in it, drowning in the feel of his body against mine. 

“Hey, you can’t be in here!” 

Sam pulled away, glancing down at me with huge dark eyes. Then he turned to the guard with a sheepish, “Oops.” 

“Sorry,” I said, trying to make myself look innocently surprised. 

I did _not_ feel innocent.

“Let’s see your invitations,” the guard barked. “Names?” 

“That always works so well in movies,” Sam muttered, and then he burst into action, springing forward, punching the guard just before he could grab his walkie-talkie. The guy fell heavily, and Sam knelt to check his pulse while I turned back to the shelf. 

The statuette was lying on its side, and for a second I didn’t understand how that could’ve happened. 

_Fuck_. 

“I need your handkerchief to gag him, c’mon,” Sam ordered. 

“Jesus, you’re fucking bossy.” I picked the thing up gingerly and dropped it in my clutch. When I turned around, Sam was knotting his cummerbund neatly around the guy’s ankles. 

“Not bad, right?” he asked, admiring his work smugly. 

I rolled my eyes and grabbed that guard’s wrists (bound in Sam’s tie) to help drag him behind a bookshelf, where he wouldn’t be visible from the door. Sam gagged him carelessly. 

We peered around the door before stepping into the hall, walking quickly, and made a beeline through the entrance hall, Sam tugging me along by the wrist. When we hit the ballroom we slowed down, trying to look inconspicuous. His hand settled on my back again, and this time I didn’t try to move away. 

“See? Piece of cake.” 

“Well...” 

“Seriously? Tell me you didn’t touch it.” 

“I _can’t_ say that with 100% certainty,” I said testily. 

“Let’s focus on getting out of here. Stay calm.” 

“Easy for you to say!”

“You’re not in any immediate danger.” 

“Oh, well, as long as it’s not _immediate_ ,” I grouched. 

We were quiet as we made our way down the steps and into the garden. The full moon had come out from behind the clouds, and it was almost too bright as we ducked off the main path; we had to be extra careful as we stuck to the shadows. I kicked my heels off, leaving them there under the bush, and as soon as I had my normal shoes on we started down the maintenance trail. 

“So?” Sam asked. I struggled to keep pace as he led the way on his stupid long giant legs. “Did you just forget about how you’re _not_ supposed to touch the magic statue?” 

“It’s not like I grabbed it on _purpose_. I think I brushed against it when _you_ fuckin’ shoved me up against the wall, asshole. This is _your_ fault. Just tell me what’s gonna happen.” 

Sam snorted. “It makes you act on animal instinct. Brings out whatever nasty thing you’ve been repressing because of social expectations. Which I guess could be problematic, considering that you repress just about every-fucking-thing, but…” 

“Fuck you. I do _not_.” 

“As long as you give in, you’ll be fine. It’s just a problem when people try to ignore it. Hell, maybe this’ll be good for you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” A weird prickle of heat ran down my spine. 

“Exactly what it sounded like,” Sam retorted, completely unrepentant. “You’d be a hell of a lot happier if you just let go sometimes. Unless your repressed instinct is homicide, I guess. That’s where the body count on that thing comes in. Are you feeling homicidal?” 

“Keep talking and I just might.” 

Out of nowhere, there was this jolt of heat through my gut, sharp and sudden, and I stumbled. 

“What was that?” Sam asked. He sounded more intrigued than concerned. 

“I’m _fine_. I miss the real you, but I’m fine.” 

As soon as I said it, another flash of arousal went through me. I let out a low, breathless moan and stopped short. 

“That’s not what you sound like when you’re fine.” 

“Fuck _off_.” 

It wasn’t a normal sort of lust. It hurt as it cramped through me, like pinpricks, too urgent to be natural. 

“Oh,” Sam said. He smirked, head tilted, evaluating me with laser-sharp focus. The intensity of that stare sent a whole new wave of need through me. 

“I’m fine,” I repeated. My skin was tingling all over, and I wanted to jump him almost as much as I wanted to punch him. 

Then he was coming in close, prowling, predatory… my first instinct was to back away, but my feet were carrying me _forward_ without my permission. We collided, his hands firm on my waist, mine sliding up the front of his suit jacket to grip the lapels and cling. 

“You’re not fine,” he said smugly. 

“Help me,” I gritted out. 

He looked around, assessing our surroundings, before pushing over to the nearest big tree and crowding me up against the wide trunk. One hand curled under my chin and tilted my head back to meet his gaze. 

His face was beautiful but strange in the moonlight, an abstract collection of silvery lines and pooling shadows, but I could see the way his eyes were glittering. I swallowed hard. 

“How do you want it, then?” Sam asked, casual like we were talking about the weather. 

_Fuck_. 

“Just… your fingers,” I said tersely, trying to control my breathing and my imagination. 

“You think that’ll be enough?” he asked, as he rucked up my dress. 

“God, I hope so,” I sighed. I closed my eyes, trying to block everything out, trying not to breathe in the clean, spicy masculine scent of him. 

“Seriously? Am I that hideous to you?” He tugged my panties down and I stepped out of them shakily, distracted by the way his knuckles brushed slowly up my inner thigh. “Tell me you haven’t thought about this before. Or are you hung up on the whole _soul_ thing?” 

“Don’t.” 

Sam shrugged. He hooked a hand under one of my knees, hefting my leg up and to one side, steadying me as I clung to the front of his jacket. Then he was sinking two fingers into me, and my eyes rolled back in my head at the feel of it, this immediate overwhelming rush of bone-deep relief. 

“Tell me what you like.” His fingers twisted deeper with an obscene slick ease, curling and crooking. 

“This — this is good,” I croaked, biting my lip. 

Sam shifted, leaning down to whisper in my ear: “I can _feel_ how close you are already, but that’s not _enough_. It’s about animal instinct. Things you’ve been repressing. What do you fantasize about? What do you _really_ want?” 

“I don’t want _anything_ else from you.” 

“Do you wish it was Dean, instead of me?” I let my head fall back, whining, rolling my hips. He laughed quietly. “You can pretend, if you want. I don’t care. Think about how he’d feel —” 

“ _Fuck_ you,” I hissed. “Shut up.” 

His thumb circled my clit, and my thighs started to shake. 

“What are you so ashamed of?” he asked, low and silky. “Believe me, however filthy you think you are, I’ve done worse. C’mon, let go, I’ve got you.” I whimpered, shuddering as I came, while Sam held me steady, pinning me against the tree, teasing me: “Good girl. There you go… now can you just admit you were wrong? Let me help.” 

It was already starting to hurt again, even as I shivered through the aftershocks. There were bright spots dancing in my vision. 

“I want to be on top,” I snapped. 

He smirked. “Suit yourself.” 

Sam picked me up by the waist without warning, moving me bodily out of the way, and I almost stumbled. He shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and spread it on the ground, covering the moss and crunchy leaves that blanketed the base of the tree, so that he could sit up with his back against the trunk. My cheeks burned at the sound of his zipper. 

I straddled him, clumsy and overeager, trying to hike my dress up. Sam fumbled between us, trying to help, but for a moment we were all tangled up, getting in each other's way. I heard the seam of my skirt give with a _rip_ as I pulled it out of the way carelessly. Then the hot thick head of his cock was sliding up against my entrance, and the way it pressed in, blunt and velvety-smooth and _big_ , made every rational thought fly out the window. 

Sam’s fingers were bruisingly tight on my hips. In the moonlight I could see the way he was clenching his jaw as he let his head fall back against the tree trunk. It bared the tendons and muscles of his neck over his open collar, and I leaned in before I could think twice, nipping sharply at the soft skin under his jaw. 

“Harder,” Sam breathed. “Let go. I know you want to.” 

“You don’t know me,” I protested, but the last word caught and hitched and turned into a moan. 

“Always figured you’d fuck the same way you fight… like a wild animal. You like it _rough_ , don’t you? You want me to mark you up and make it _hurt_.” 

“I don’t —” 

He ran one hand up my bare back and then _scratched_ , fingernails catching like lines of fire as they dragged down. I shouted, muscles spasming as my cunt clenched around him, and he laughed, ragged and breathy. 

“Animal instinct, remember? Don’t try to pretend you didn’t like that. No point lying when I can feel it from the inside.” 

I slid my fingers into his hair and kissed him, teeth sinking into his lower lip until I tasted blood. Sam fisted a hand in my hair in return, yanking, tugging my head back to expose my neck. He sucked a bruise into my collarbone — dragged his mouth down — nibbled at the swell of my breast, finding my nipple through the silk of my dress, sucking, teeth scraping — 

He flipped us without warning, slamming me down onto my back so hard it knocked the breath from my lungs. All I could do was gasp for air, dizzyingly close. He was completely in control as he sat back on his heels, holding my hips up so that he could rock into me with shallow little thrusts, rubbing perfectly against my g-spot. He looked down, eyes fixed to the place where his cock was splitting me open.

“You gonna do something about it, or just stare all night?” I whimpered, my voice strained. 

Sam grinned, dangerously sharp, and I wondered if I’d made a mistake. 

He reached down and wrapped his long fingers around my throat, fingers nudging expertly into position so that he could cut off blood flow without crushing my windpipe. My vision started to go sparkly black at the edges. Then his other hand palmed my belly, his thumb circling roughly around my clit, and my spine bowed up like he’d zapped me to life with a defibrillator. 

He released my neck, and at the first head-spinning gulp of oxygen I came hard and fast, writhing under him, trying to stifle my wild sobs by biting down on my own forearm. 

I was still shaking when he pulled out and grabbed my legs, flipping me onto my stomach roughly, hauling my hips up until I was on my knees with my elbows in the dirt and my ass up in the air. My eyes were stinging with tears. I made an ugly noise of relief as I felt the slick burn of his cock again.

It felt so good that it took me a second to realize that the unnatural prickly heat in my belly was gone. It wasn’t the _curse_ making my cunt throb and clench around him. This was a different sort of desperation. 

“Should see yourself,” he whispered, his voice shredded. “Any idea how filthy you look? With your legs spread and your dress up around your waist and your face down in the dirt, begging to get fucked?” 

“Not begging yet,” I snarled. “Is that all you got?” 

He scratched my back again, one hand raking down between my shoulderblades in a glorious lash of fiery pain, and then he grabbed me by the hair again, twisting as he held me down. He pulled out slow and shoved in all at once. 

“Anybody ever tell you how good you look on your knees? Being _so_ good for me. Been thinking about this for so long, since the first time I saw you fight.” 

My head spun. That was _years_ ago, long before Sam lost his soul, and — 

— _oh_.

He fucked me harder, hips snapping forward with a sharp smack of skin on skin, swiveling in deep to wrench too-intense pleasure from me with every thrust. 

“You’re gonna come for me, one more time. Let me feel you.” 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” I growled. 

“That’s my girl.”

“Not,” I slurred, defiant even though it felt like he was _breaking_ me. “Not yours.” 

“Maybe not, but you’re going to do what I tell you. Let go.” 

I let out a raw, helpless sob. My head didn’t want to listen, but my body was already gone. 

Everything froze and dissolved into white. The rest of the world faded away, brilliant and beautiful, for a long transcendent moment; it felt like ecstasy, like a religious experience, like peace. 

And then I snapped back into reality, to the ugly human chaos of the moment, the smell of dirt and sweat, sensations jumbling together: broken sounds spilling from my lips, slowly receding waves of my orgasm clenching in my core, Sam grinding into me one last time. He came with a shout and I gasped, shaking, feeling the way he pulsed inside me. 

It took a second before either of us could move, but then Sam pulled me upright, pulling me back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me. 

For a second, I forgot this wasn’t the real Sam, the soft kind sweet one, the Sam I loved. 

I tilted my head back against his shoulder, wondering when we could do that again, and let out a soft, “ _God_.” 

“Pretty much the opposite, actually,” he said, with that unmistakable cold smirk in his voice. He pressed the heel of his hand between my legs, blunt and rough, making me moan. “Should probably shower before the next round. Guess we could do both at once, if we want to be efficient about it.” 

I bristled. “What, you’re just going to _assume_ —” 

“You were thinking the same thing, don’t lie to me.” 

“Fine,” I snapped. “But I’m still not going to pretend to like you.” 

His laugh made my skin crawl. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a note if you enjoyed this? Or come find me on tumblr and say hi: @there-must-be-a-lock


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